Final Fantasy X3: Noli Manere in Memoria
by InTheCell
Summary: He has sworn not to remain in memory... A great warrior has seemingly torn his way through the Farplane, seeking to establish an eternal legacy, one that lasts beyond memory. And it seems that he comes from the distant future...but how? Violence warning.


_**Noli Manere in Memoria**_

_Prologue_

Guadosalam was in ruins.

Bleeding corpses, freshly killed, were strewn about. Fires roared everywhere, choking the air with smoke, difficult for any eye to see through. Homes and businesses had been destroyed. Men, women, and children lay dead at their doorsteps. The entrance to the Farplane gave off an eerie glow, as if something sinister lurked within. Or had burst out of it.

Guadosalam was in ruins. It was a scene of utter carnage.

In his office, surrounded by bodyguards, Tromell frantically sent out a distress call through the CommSphere Network.

"This is Lord Tromell calling from Guadosalam to anyone who can hear me! We're under attack by a horrifically powerful warrior of some sort. I don't know who he is, he came out of the Farplane – I have no idea how! Nothing we've done to defend ourselves has worked – he's single-handedly massacred everyone in Guadosalam!"

He was cut off by several loud explosions from the mansion's main hall.

"He's…inside _already_?!"

Four of his guards stood up, "We'll stop him, my Lord." Without another word, they rushed out the door, closing it heavily behind them. The guards that remained grabbed as much heavy furniture as they could find and barricaded the door. The sounds of a hopeless battle could already be heard outside.

Tromell turned back to the CommSphere. "I don't have much time – he's almost here. To anyone who receives this message: Get to Guadosalam as soon as you can, we need help immediately! Anyone with - "

The barricaded office doors were smashed asunder by a powerful blast. Tromell was knocked over his desk, his CommSphere shattering to pieces on the ground. The bodyguards, who had been struggling to hold the doors shut, were flung across the room like child's playthings. Before anything had come to rest, the bisected corpses of the four bodyguards who'd rushed out were hurled violently into the room, spraying blood all over.

Tromell struggled to get up, if not to grab a weapon and fight this menace. Blood flowing from his nose and ears, he struggled to see through the choking layers of dust and smoke for anything – a sword, a club, anything to defend himself with. Dazed and barely able to stand (had he also broken his legs?), he noticed one of his guards, perhaps too dazed to recall what was happening, stumbling towards the open door.

Before the elderly Guado could call out in warning, a long, glistening blade shot out and pieced the guard through the chest. He was promptly cast aside, and the man who had killed so many in the last half-hour stepped calmly through the doorway.

Had the circumstances been different, the sight of this man may not have troubled Tromell so deeply. He stood over six feet tall, dressed in a long, black coat with shining pauldrons on the soldiers. Long silver hair hung down to his waist, and his eyes were a deep, piercing green. In his left hand was grasped an amazingly long sword, slick with Guado blood.

The surviving bodyguards staggered to their feet. "FOR GUADOSALAM!" they hollered, and charged.

It was in vain. Without saying a word or showing any emotion whatsoever, the silver-haired man decapitated the last of Tromell's bodyguards with a single stroke of his sword. Tromell watched in sheer terror as their headless bodies fell limp to the ground.

All was silent, save Tromell's terrified moaning, as the man calmly walked towards the wounded Guado leader.

"Please, stop! Enough! Don't kill me!" he begged, getting as far against the back wall as he could.

An amused smirk crept over the man's face as he gently floated off the ground, and landed on Tromell's desk.

As Tromell feebly raised his arms to defend himself, a horrific pain tore through him as he was impaled on the long, slender blade and lifted several feet in the air, kicking about in agony. Next thing he knew, he'd been flung out the office door and sent sprawling into his bedroom, crying out in pain. Desperately, he gathered what little strength he could and frantically dragged himself towards the main hall. Suddenly, he felt his spine cracking as he was impaled, from the back this time, and lifted into the air yet again.

"Leaving so soon, old man?"

He was flying again, out the bedroom doors, over the railing in the main hall, and landing heavily on his face at the main entranceway of his mansion.

Every inch of his body that he could still feel was it agony, it felt like every bone he had was shattered. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't scream, and he could barely see through the blood in his eyes. He was dying. Surrounded by the wreckage of his mansion and the broken bodies of his kin, he was going to die a terrible death.

The silver-haired man walked up behind him, and kicked his limp body over onto the back. Grazing Tromell's cheek with the tip of his blade, he spoke.

"Tell me, old man – what year is it?"

Tromell didn't understand. "Wh-what?"

The blade flicked and sliced the elder's left ear off. He yelped in pain.

"I asked you what year it was. Answer me, please."

Tromell drew a ragged breath and said, "Y-Year Seven of the Eternal Calm."

The man seemed puzzled, and spoke softly to himself. "Year Seven…Eternal Calm? Have I truly gone back?"

"Gone…back?"

The sword pierced Tromell's heart, killing him instantly. "It is of no concern to you."

Stepping through the carnage that remained of Guadosalam, the black-caped man reflected to himself.

_ I have sworn that I shall not remain in memory. This I have sworn to my greatest enemy._

_ I who am destined to lead this planet shall not become memory. Memory fades into history, memory decays with age, memory dies with time. I will not fade into oblivion with the passage of time. I will not be forgotten._

_ To become immortal, beyond the limits of memory, I will create a legacy greater than has ever been, by changing what has already been. This legacy will be forged beyond the reach of my enemies, for it shall be the reforging of time itself. My legacy will be the history of this world._

_I have moved beyond the passage of time and become part of this world's ancient past. And it shall be the ancient past that carries me into eternity._

_ I will…never be a memory._

_ I will be…__**eternity.**_


End file.
